Murder at The Gilded Dove

A dead brothel owner tries to solve his own murder from beyond the grave

Photo by Brad on Unsplash

I participated in the 2022 NYC Midnight Short Story Contest. I had one week to write a short story, 2500 words or less, after being given a genre (“mystery”), a character (“trooper”), and a subject (“fool’s gold”). While I did not place in the first round and move on to the rest of the contest, I had a great time writing my short story and wanted to share it. Enjoy!

One morning, Roger McMerry woke up dead. Or at least, he attempted to sit up but instead ascended above his body and was slightly startled to find himself detached. His lifeless form lay rigid and cold, halfway out the door to The Gilded Dove — the brothel he owned in the small mountain town of Monte Vista. His empty eyes glazed as they stared into the heavens, an expression of shock on his face. What was he so shocked about when he died?

For that matter, how had he died? Roger couldn’t seem to remember. He needed to get a closer look. He willed himself forward and his consciousness drifted closer to his corpse. Perfect. The mortal wound was clearly a bullet hole square between his eyes. Someone had shot him.

He looked around the room for clues. Nothing appeared to be out of place. He attempted to move across the room, but found he stopped a few feet out from his body. So he was trapped. Fine. From where his body lay, he inspected the sitting room. Everything was in its place: two aging red velvet sofas, a standing mirror framed in gold, a bookshelf full of books, trinkets, and Roger’s personal pyrite collection.

The Gilded Dove had been a booming business back in the early days of the gold rush, when men abandoned their families to head west. The lonely blokes were drawn to his brothel, aptly named with the promise of good fortune and one last romp in the hay before they braved the treacherous mountains. Roger opted for as many golden decorations as he could find to drive the point home, thus beginning his collection of pyrite, also known as fool’s gold.

Roger ran through his last day alive in his head, but as far as he could remember it was business as usual. He paid out his workers — Selena, Molly, and Billy — like he did every Sunday night. His wife, Eliza, stopped in…